101 degrees
by Ambiguous Umbra
Summary: Josh thinks he has the flu could it be something much worse? JD and a little CJ Danny for some spice. April Fools in the WW! Updated to Chapter 14! Final chapter.
1. Artichokes and Cranberry Juice

((My first story fiction. Please review. Chapter 2 will be up in a few days hopefully!))

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from the West Wing. I own the plot for this story though; and any characters that you haven't heard of before.

Enjoy!

* * *

Josh Lyman was furious. As he stared down at the thermometer tucked between his teeth, another cough racked his body. He sat in a white t-shirt and a pair of boxers on the edge of his bed, breathing deep and hair mussed up from not sleeping very well the previous night.

Of all the days that he didn't want to feel sick, it was April Fool's Day. He'd planned several debilitating and clever jokes to pull on the rest of the staffers, preferably Toby Zeigler. The Communications Director was one of the least satirical employees at the White House and Josh had made it a point to see if he could get a rise out of him. After all, that's how he operated.

But glancing back down at the digital numbers, his hopes sank fast. 101.4. He had a temperature of 101.4. Well, that was encouraging... he hadn't thought that he'd had the flu, maybe a 24 hour bug, but nothing that would crush his plans for that day.

A sigh escaped him along with a couple of straggling coughs as he looked to the bedside clock. The infra red glow depicted close to 6:30. He swallowed and regretted it when pain scorched up and down his wind pipe. 'Great.' he thought to himself, flopping back onto the cool mattress. 'Leo's gonna have my ass if I can't come in today.' he mused, trying to clear his throat. But it was clogged and just when he thought that he should get a drink of water, he was launched into a number of relapse coughs. He stumbled to the bathroom just before he coughed up some acid green mucus.

Giving one last spit to clear his mouth, his face scrunched back at the taste and he promptly gargled. When Josh lifted his head, he found himself staring at his severely degraded reflection, the ghostly pallor and the darkness not only in his eyes but beneath them. It wasn't like he hadn't noticed, it just hadn't been this bad. And since in the past couple of weeks, he'd been acting like a happy-go-lucky shmuck without a care in the world, he'd practically set himself up for this.

Last week at the concert in the Kennedy Center for the London Symphony Orchestra, he'd gotten a call during intermission from the Senate Minority Whip, Michael Foxe, questioning him on whether or not the President had been responsible for axing the membership of a Ms. Nathalie Waitier from the Education Department. Apparently, Foxe and Waitier were old friends and he wanted to see if the rumors were true. He'd stood out on the terrace for nearly an hour without his blazer since he'd taken it off inside when it had gotten too hot, trying to convince the Whip that there would be no reason for the President to fire her.

Pouring himself a glass of water and exiting the bathroom, Josh lay once again on his bed, his mind whirling trying to think of an idea. Perhaps Donna was awake. He cast a hopeful glance towards the phone and picked it up. He punched the speed dial button; Donna was practically the only person that he communicated with when he was at home, and that was mostly because he liked to tease her in his spare time. Of course it was all in good fun and she never took any of it seriously, at least he hoped that she didn't. Everyone else on the other hand, he preferred to be unreachable, and also preferred his privacy. Although that didn't stop them from calling him and when they did was when he wished that he was taking a cruise to Jamaica or some other exotic island.

The ringing on the other side of the phone pulsed twice before the hardly chipper voice of Donna Moss picked up. "Hello?"

"Donna, it's me." he started.

There was a pause and a sigh. "I knew this was going to be a bad day."

"Hey!" he protested, straightening up a little. "I haven't said anything yet. Go easy on me."

"Why should I?" she asked. "After all, this is practically _your_ national holiday."

He heard a couple of dishes clatter. "Under usual circumstances, it would be."

"What makes these unusual circumstances?"

"I'm sick."

"I've known that for a long time." Donna giggled.

"No, no, no, Donna. I'm not kidding. I just took my temperature. I've got a 101 degree flu."

"I told you not to stay out all night drinking beer." she kidded. "But you men, never listen."

"Donnnnna..." Josh whined which sparked off more coughing.

"Okay." Donna addressed in a more serious tone, thinking that she should probably humor him. "This means that you're not coming in today."

He rolled his eyes, greatful that she could not see. "Well, I certainly hope not." A few more coughs escaped him.

"You know, today's the day that Leo asked you to meet with that woman from the education department."

"Nathalie Waitier?"

"Yeah." she acknowledged.

"Why does he want me meeting with her?"

"Because the President is going to fire her."

He groaned. So she was being fired. Why didn't people tell him these things when he needed to know them? "Yeah. So?"

"So... you're not doing this to get out of it are you?" she inquired suspiciously.

He sat for a moment. "I wish that was the reason. Leo knows that I don't do well with anyone from the Department of Education, especially Nathalie Waitier." he emphasized, taking a sip of water.

"Why?"

"Unpleasant memories." he said shortly.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me, I'll call Leo and tell him to expect you."

"Oh come on, Donna. That's not fair." he pleaded, pushing the covers aside on his bed and climbing back beneath them.

"Good. I hoped that I was being at least a little unfair." she replied. "It's about time that I got my chance."

He could tell that she was smiling. "Cruel." he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"So," Donna redirected. "What do you want me to do? Just tell them that you're not coming in or... what?"

"Tell 'em I'm not going to be there." he decided on the spot. "And let Leo know that I'm sorry."

"I don't think a minor apology is going to do much, Josh."

"Too bad. I look like shit and my self esteem is damaged." he made up an excuse, coughing again. "I can't go into work knowing that."

"Suddenly Mr. Vanity Fair, are we?" she questioned mockingly.

"That's Master Vanity Fair." he corrected, taking a long breath of air.

"You know..." Donna paused again, building a case for herself. "For someone with a 101 degree flu, you seem to be pretty lively to me."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that you're a pretty bad liar, Josh."

"Donna!" he exploded. "I'm not lying." Here he began hacking irratically until whatever tickle was in his throat was annihilated.

"Do you want me to get you anything? Chicken soup? Fruit parfait? O. J.?" she asked considerately.

"Coffee and a bagel wouldn't be too much to ask for would it?"

"Sick people shouldn't drink coffee or eat bagels."

"I think they should."

A huff echoed over the phone.

"Okay, okay!" he changed his mind. "Maybe some Cranberry juice."

"I'll bring it over during my lunch break, okay?" she insisted.

He could hear her rifling around, probably in her purse looking for something. "Thanks."

"I'd like to say that it's not a problem... but... with you, that would be a lie."

"Oh, you love me, admit it." he teased, taking another gulp from the water.

"Yes, just about as much as I love artichokes and mosquitos." she replied sardonically.

"Hey, I love artichokes." he protested.

Donna sighed. "Of course you do."

"Oh, by the way. The senate whip asked about you." he changed the subject.

Her voice fell into shock. "He did?"

"Yup."

"Michael Foxe asked about me?"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"When?"

"Last Friday. I talked with him on the phone."

Donna paused. "Um, what exactly did he say?"

"He said, 'Gee, that Donna Moss is real giddy. Maybe I should ask her on a date and find out what she's like when she's not hyped up on coffee.'"

Pause. "He said that?" Her voice sounded as if something had stepped on it.

"April Fools."

Then the line went dead.

Josh hung up and leaned back against his pillow. "I guess that means I'm not getting the juice."


	2. The Clock

((Here is chapter 2! I'm still looking for more reviews but I understand if you want to read the entire story before you do them. Thanks for the reviews from Miss Jasadin and kursk. I'm glad you both like it so far.))

Disclaimer: Still disclaiming the same stuff from Chapter 1.

* * *

"MARGARET!" Leo bellowed from his desk. He was glaring at the clock hanging on the wall across the room; a clock that he wished wasn't displaying the actual time. But since it was, it only meant one thing... Josh was trying to get out of work. He hadn't told Josh that the President was hoping to fire Nathalie Waitier from the Education Department, in fact, he hadn't told him why either. It had been decided in a midnight meeting what had to have been done.

Nathalie Waitier worked in the Office of the General Counsel. Her area of speciality though was that she managed and coordinated employee training and development for the office. Apparently, word got around that she had not been doing her job correctly, and because of it, one of the employees that she had trained ended up gaining access and hacking into the system, destroying necessary files and ruining the important legal information systems LEXIS and JURIS. At first, the department was willing to let it all go, thinking that it was a slight overlook; she couldn't have possibly known the man's mental stability... it wasn't her fault. However, someone made a background check on the hacker employee and discovered that he and Waitier had gone to the same college, attended the same classes... knew each other. Now that her cover was blown, the President was personally handling the dismissal.

Everything had been going perfectly fine until that morning at 0300 hours when a Russian satellite had broken from it's orbit and was now drifting in space like metallic junk. There had been no word from the Russians yet about it. The President would be meeting with the Russian ambassador later that day and wouldn't have the time to do it. Leo himself would have done it except he had a meeting on the hill that he couldn't get out of. The meeting had been pushed down to Josh. But so far, the deputy had not shown himself.

The door cracked open and the redheaded secretary poked her head in, eyes wide with expectation of punishment. Leo wondered to himself if she had done something wrong recently; and if she had, nothing could have made him more irritated. "Get Josh in here! On the double!" he ordered.

"Yeah." she replied simply and began to shut the door.

"Oh and, Margaret..." he added, trying his best to keep the suspicion from his tone. "You have that look on your face."

"What look?"

"That guiltless look that you know I can't stand."

"I haven't done anything." she backed out from the door to her desk.

"Not yet you haven't." he muttered.

Several minutes later, she returned with a sheepish look on her face. "Um..."

"Now what?" he said wearily.

"Josh didn't come in today."

Leo's face fell a little. "What?"

"No one has seen him."

'Hmmm...' he thought to himself as he rubbed his chin a little. "Thank you."

She hurried away to her desk.

After a couple more minutes to himself, Leo rose and stalked from his office down to the Bullpin to have a word with Donna. He found the secretary just settling into her desk with a cup of steaming coffee and a stack of papers to go through.

"Morning, Donna." he said casually.

"Hey, Leo." she responded cheerfully, taking a sip of the drink.

"You seen Josh today?"

"Well, he called me this morning to say that he has the flu, but I'm not sure about it. I figure its just his way of trying to pass an April Fools joke off on me. I took him seriously until..." Donna's anger seethed remembering the conversation that morning about Michael Foxe.

"What?" he asked when he realized she'd stopped talking.

"Nothing. Anyway, I don't think he would pass up the opportunity to come in today. You know how much he loves tormenting Toby and CJ."

"Yeah." he smiled. "When he comes in, can you tell him to come straight to my office?"

"Sure thing." she assured returning to the paperwork.

"Thanks." Leo appreciated and walked back to his office.

((No Josh in this chapter. Sorry. Have to establish a plot.))


	3. Dinner Arrangements

((Here is Chapter 3! Reviews still welcome! Still Disclaiming same things from previous chapters... lets just say it's not going to change. Then I won't have to keep writing it. Some CJ and Danny for any of their fans!))

* * *

C.J. stood above the army of the press corp at her podium, like the queen of her kingdom. Letting out a silent breath of air, she cleared her throat and addressed her next area for the reporters. "This morning at 3:00, a Russian satellite broke its orbit. The President is planning to spend the morning talking to the Russian ambassador and then later this afternoon, he'll be engaged in several conferences with other Slavic leaders in the region of the space technology center to try and come to a conclusion with what happened."

Several hands jettisoned into the air before she'd even finished reporting the story, the most familiar being that of Danny Concannon who sat up front today. Though she didn't want to give him any encouraging ideas by calling on him first, her tongue slipped and she heard herself speak his name. Danny had been under the idea that she might want to go on a date with him some time before the next decade arrived. She had never really been interested, in fact, she had found it quite a waste of her time. She had no time to date, especially someone from the Press Corp that she spent all of her waking hours with. But, she'd been given time to think the previous night.

She'd curled up in her bed a little past one a.m. but for reasons she really didn't understand, she couldn't fall asleep. Instead, her thoughts had been focused on her love life and how... limp and lifeless it was. It wouldn't do her much harm if she told the reporter from the Post that she 'might' go on a dinner date with him. Then, given more time to think about it, if she didn't want to do it than she wouldn't. It left her with a way out.

"Has the Russian government been contacted?" Danny questioned, not picking up on the significance of being called on first. Or maybe he had and just wasn't showing it.

"We made contact an hour ago. The President spoke to them briefly." she admonished.

"Were they trying to deny anything?"

"There was nothing for them to deny." she responded a tad harshly. "It was there satellite."

"What I mean is, are they claiming responsibility for it dropping out of orbit?"

"They haven't said anything about it being their fault so I suppose that would be a no." C.J. quipped.

There eyes met briefly. Though no words were exchanged in that little passage of time, C.J. felt something behind his sly gaze. After the briefing, she had to talk to him. He had paid attention to the fact that she had called on him first.

Quickly so that it shouldn't look like she was staring, she turned her attention to Steve, another reporter who was a couple of rows back and pointed to him.

"C.J., I'm responding to the report on Nathalie Waitier being fired from the Department of Education."

The Press Secretary rolled her eyes. 'Honestly, couldn't these people just let her be fired and be done with it?"

Steve pressed on. "According to a report made by Senate Minority Whip, Michael Foxe, he heard from a senior White House official that 'the President would never fire Waitier. Do you have any comment on this?"

She stood stunned, trying to come up with something to say. "I don't have anything for you on that." she replied in almost a dazed way, searching frantically through all of the papers before her for any sort of note on it, whether it be a sticky note or a report but there was none. "Thank you." she said and left the podium.

Once in the hall and once she'd breathed a fresh breath of air, Danny sought her out. His face was elated once again like nothing in the press room had happened at all, that over confident smirk that he always wore. While she'd got dressed that morning, she'd been listening to the radio and happened upon a jazzy tune that reminded her a little too much of that smile. It was called _The Sermon_ by Jimmy Smith.

She snapped out of her thoughts as he said good morning to her and replied with, "Morning."

"So, you seriously haven't heard anything about Foxe taking his frustrations out on you guys?" he brought up to try and resume normal conversation. He was stalling she knew; something to pass the time before he could ask his routine date question, which she now desperately wanted to answer.

"Up until now I wasn't aware he had any frustrations." She took a corner and both of them stepped into her office. She took her place behind her desk and took a sip from her cold coffee, nearly cringing with the taste. "Why does Michael care what happens to Nathalie Waitier? After all, he has nothing to do with the Education Department."

"They're old friends. I thought you knew that."

"No, I don't tune into the 'Washington Gossip' station that everyone else likes to follow."

Danny shrugged and slumped into a chair in front of her.

"Doesn't he know what she did. Or what she's being accused of. People might start to think that he was in on it too." she tried to reason.

"He doesn't seem to care how it makes him look." Danny confirmed.

"Figures." she sighed, pushing the coffee away from her.

"And you have no idea who on the staff tried to say that she wouldn't be fired?" he wondered curiously.

"This is the first I've heard about it. But when I find the little shrimp, he'll be in for it big time." C.J. assured.

"He?"

"Or she."

"'Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn', huh?" he chuckled, getting up from his chair.

C.J.'s eyes widened. He hadn't asked. Hadn't he taken his stupid pills that morning? Maybe he'd taken sensible pills instead!

Danny turned around, eyeing the desperate look on her face. "You okay? You look like someone just stole your lucky charms."

Pause. "Yeah. I'm fine. So, I guess I'll see you at the next press briefing."

"Okay." With that, he began out the door.

C.J. slumped in her chair. 'Damn. Of all the times he doesn't ask me...'

"Hey."

Lifting her head, she found him leaning back in the door. "Do you think you might want to go out tonight?"

"Why not." she answered before she had the time to think. Oops. She hadn't left herself any air.

He did a double take. "Really?"

"Yup. Really."

"Your sure?" he checked.

"Positive." she said decidedly.

"Okay." Danny still didn't seem sure. "I guess we can talk about it later then. Are you going to be here all day?"

"Most of it. Feel free to drop in any time."

Danny nodded and that smirk returned to his features. "Good. See you later then."

"See you later." she tried to smile although all of her insides were melting with fear at what she had done.

When he was gone, she let herself take a few long deep breaths to try and calm herself down. It had been a while since she'd dated someone, and she wasn't sure just then if she was ready to take a leap with someone, especially Danny. But maybe she would.

"CAROL!" she called to her secretary.

The brunette appeared at the door with a grin from ear to ear. She'd obviously heard the deal between her and Danny.

"Get contact of Michael Foxe's office. I need him to come see me at his earliest possible convenience."

* * *

((Sorry! No Josh in this chapter. In chapter4 he shall return though! That will be up in a few more days.))


	4. Two Heads

(( The long awaited chapter 4 has finally arrived. Thank you to the review from Kursk. There will be some JD in chapter 5 and lots more of it in chapter 6... I'm still building up the plot, but Josh has returned! You should have chapter 5 this weekend. Enjoy everyone.))

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Josh was nudged from his dreamless sleep by the ringing of a telephone far off. His vision in a blur, he squinted to try and summon a better picture of his apartment. Instead it grew darker. The next thing he realized was how damp everything felt; damp and sticky. Clawing the blankets from him, a breath of fresh air ran over his perspiring figure. His breaths came long and deep but at the same time, it felt as if there was a block in his chest keeping the air from coming in. 

Sitting up, he found the room swaying and slingshotting to and fro. Chills rippled through his spine and in seconds he was cold. But, he didn't want to lay back down in a clammy and uncomfortable bed.

His answering machine beeped and he heard Donna's voice. "Hey, Josh, I think your cover's been blown. Leo wants you here ASAP to talk to you about Natalie Waitier. It's important. Something came up and no one else has the time to tell her she's fired. Call me back." then the click.

Without stretched hands, Josh groped the bedside table for the phone. What was the matter with Donna? Why was she so gullible one moment and then not the next? It was as if she believed everything that was farcical and unbelievable was true. A good talk would set her straight; like the talk he'd given her about sewing her name in the back of her underwear during that whole Karen Cahill episode.

But just as he pushed the 'talk' button on the phone, the nausea in his stomach became unbearable and he found himself stumbling for the bathroom once again. He got a few false coughs out which pained deep in his stomach and after ultimately deciding that he didn't need to ralph, hung his head pendulously as he sat on the chilly floor. 'To Hell with work.' he thought to himself, searching the bathroom for something to wrap around his shoulders.'There's no way I'm going anywhere.' Usually, Josh was a workaholic. But this time, he doubted that he would be able to do anything, much less talk. It hurt to say anything and when ever he tried his voice went high pitched and then disappeared. It was like going through puberty again.

And on that note, he lost control and heaved into the bowl.

* * *

Michael Foxe stared at C.J. from across the desk, eyes a dark shade of jasper brown and sparkling with deceit and frustration. C.J. hated those eyes just about as much as she despised the look she received from them. She knew deeply that the man was nothing short of pissed at the White House for Waitier being fired. Apparently his thoughts were convoluted though. If he thought that they were firing her because she hadn't done anything or she wasn't capable of performing her job; he was severely misinformed. 

However, she was even more disturbed by what Foxe had told her at the beginning of the meeting; that the quote about the President never wanting to fire Natalie had come from Josh. Damn that little... when she found him, she'd breathe fire on him. For now however, she had to try and tame the flames that were soaring from Michael and then somehow convince him why Natalie was being fired. Even though Josh had made the mistake. The bloody Deputy Chief of Staff in the White House.

Foxe uncrossed and re-crossed his arms for the fiftieth time since their conversation had started. "So, are you trying to tell me that even though Lyman made the mistake, you're still going to keep him on staff and fire Natalie?" he questioned in a somewhat miffed tone.

She seethed angrily. When were stupid men like this one ever going to recognize the way that the government worked? "Look, Michael, even though Josh had no right telling you what he did, Natalie broke the law!"

"Natalie was just doing her job! She had nothing to do with that bastard who hacked the systems."

"She had everything to do with it!" C.J.'s voice rose. "She trained him to do it; they even attended college together; the same classes in college together! Doesn't that serve as enough background for you?"

"It's a coincidence."

C.J. huffed with rage. "Too coincidental, Mike. She's got to go."

Once again, Michael's eyes blackened. "I can't believe the way this White House operates." he muttered to himself as he stood up and collected his jacket. "All Bartlet is concerned with is protecting his own staff..."

"Hey!" C.J. exploded, standing from behind her desk. "Listen, you little creep, I don't care what grievances you think you have but I'll tell you that when you talk about the main in charge of this country, you address him as 'The President' and you speak of him with respect."

Foxe stood practically trembling in anger. "You're all the same. Maybe I should make an appointment with McGarry about your behavior. I'm sure this kind of impudence isn't tolerated on a regular basis." He glanced at her up and down for a second. "On second thought, maybe it is."

"Don't be snide with me, Michael." she hissed, glaring as if straight through him. "You are definitely not in a position to be serving me with threats. There's no need to go after my head on this. If you don't like what the President is doing; tough. You'll just have to deal with it."

"Fine. I'll get Josh's head." Foxe smiled defiantly.

C.J. paused, eyes growing wide. "He didn't even know that the President was going to fire her. That's hardly an excuse to destroy someone's career. And I can tell you now that if you go after him, there will be bigger fish in the water; sharks I imagine who will come to do the same to you."

"Someone has to be punished for this, Ms. Cregg. If you think that it's just something that can be swept away, you can think again." His voice escalated. "Who would you rather I blame? People who had nothing to do with this incident... like Ziegler or Seaborn? There are only two people involved here. You and Lyman. Which would you rather I go after?"

"As I said before, you are in _no_ position to be delivering threats. You don't sully the reputation of one of my friends, and you _certainly_ don't mess with mine either." she warned, eyes seeming to light up in an inferno of rage. She leaned close, her tone full of venom. "If you try to go after Josh, I will make sure you don't have a job to go back to."

The air in the room hung heavy with wrath. Foxe's face twisted in an expression of supreme displeasure as he turned and departed the room, leaving C.J. to try and sort out what had just happened.

* * *

((Plot heightens significantly in Chapter 5 be on the look out for it this Saturday. Also some major JD development and C.J. development to come. And...brief appearances of Toby, Charlie,and Sam! Yay!)) 


	5. Anywhere, Anything

(( Chapter 5 is here. Thank you so much for all of the lovely reviews from Miss Jasadin, Kursk, Kristy P, WIWJ, and Shanj. They are very much appreciated! At this point I don't know when I'm going to get Chapter 6 up... end of next week, I go to France and Spain. I won't be back until the 21st. ;( I'm sorry. But it will give me a chance to get a few chapters written out of the country and then I'll get them up for y'all to read! Chapter 5 is long. Take your time in reading it...))

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Toby Ziegler sat in his office, twirling in the chair with absolute boredom radiating from him. He'd barely slept the previous night; he'd been up since four o'clock the previous morning, for no apparent purpose, maybe he just didn't think that he needed to sleep. But now, even though he had loads of work that he should have been doing, all he wanted was to close his eyes and fall into a dreamless black hole. Eye lids slipping, Toby felt himself lean back in his chair, sounds ebbing from his mind. 

But just as he sunk into the comforting silence, his office door opened and slammed behind him, the blinds on the window shaking furiously. The Communications Director shot forward instantly, eyes as wide as dinner plates and his hand sweeping to the side to try and turn his chair towards his desk. Instead, it made contact with a stapler which flew through the air, making contact with the bulletin board on his wall and creating a horrible din. Heads turned outside his office and peered at him through his window.

The figure whom had come in to speak with him was also staring at him with furrowed brows, one hand holding up a file and the other frozen in mid air. "Did I come at a bad time?" C.J. asked, a discomfort in her tone at seeing him act so strangely.

"No, no, no..." he tried to disclaim, and got up to close the blinds at his window. "What do you need?"

"Were you sleeping?" the Press Secretary quizzed, noticing the purple rings beneath his eyes. She hadn't seen Toby sleep on the job ever, and when ever he was tired, he acted crabby... which gave it away. Never before had she actually witnessed him trying to ignore his work before.

"No." he said hoarsely, shaking his head slightly.

"You're a bad liar, Toby."

"I'm not lying."

"Whatever." she finally gave up. "Look, I've got a problem."

"With Foxe no doubt." he interrupted, sitting back down at his desk. He then reconsidered, realizing that it would be better if he didn't fall asleep while they were talking.

"How did you know?"

"The shouting from your office was kind of obvious. But other then that, the briefing you gave this morning."

C.J. rolled her eyes and slumped on his couch across from the desk. "I hate that half wit." she growled, staring at the pictures on Toby's wall but all the while imagining her fist making contact with Foxe's face.

"What did he do to piss you off? Besides wake up this morning." Toby questioned, pacing and tossing a stress ball up and down.

"He told me that Josh gave him the quote."

Toby didn't seem surprised. "Figures." he stated, yawning.

"Anyway, he's determined to make someone suffer for the mistake. Josh looks like the favored candidate for that."

"Have you talked to Josh yet?"

"No." C.J. said in a deflated tone. "I came to ask you if you'd seen him."

"Nope. I don't think he came in today. Might want to check with Donna though."

"I already did. She said he gave her some loaded story about having the flu." C.J. answered.

"He probably saw the press briefing and decided to stay at home to wait out your wrath." Toby voiced his opinion, bouncing the ball against the wall that was shared with Sam Seaborn's office. C.J.'s eyes followed the ball from the wall back to Toby's hand, until the door opened and the young deputy poked his head in, an irritated glare on his face.

"What is it?" he said in a lowly way. His hair was a tad disheveled and his tie was hanging around his neck loosely. Probably working on some sort of draft or something. Whenever Toby needed anything from Sam, he used that annoying ball and banged it against the wall. In Toby's eyes it was better than a doorbell and he was too tired to get up and walk next door.

"You seen Josh today?" his superior asked.

"No." Sam said, shrugging and stepping in the full way. Here he noticed C.J. and greeted her with a simple 'hey' before flopping down on the couch next to her. "But, I figured he wouldn't be here anyway. It's April Fools."

"This had better not be one of his jokes. Cause if it is..." C.J. gritted her teeth.

"Troubles?" Sam wondered curiously.

"Sadly but what can I say? I asked for them when I got this job."

"Senate Minority Whip?"

"Yeah." She explained the entire situation to the Deputy Communications Director, all the while referring to the contemptible Whip with derogatory names and never 'Foxe'.

"Wow. I can't blame Josh though. If I were him, I'd do the same thing." Sam reasoned.

"Me too." Toby piped in, choosing this moment to sit.

"Luckily, for both your sakes, you're not Josh." C.J. scowled and got up, beginning to pace.

The door opened again and Charlie Young, the aide to the President came in. "I'm not interrupting am I?" he asked, closing the portal behind him.

"No, of course not!" Toby said, waving his hand to invite Charlie in with a cynical smile. "We were just having a party. The more the merrier."

C.J. shot him a viscous look with narrowed eyes and then turned to Charlie. "What do you need?"

"The President wants to talk to Toby and Sam." Charlie informed briefly.

Both men rose and exited the office. Toby stopped briefly by C.J. and said, "Good luck with this whole mess." Then he left.

The Press Secretary sat there for a few moments staring into open space before she rose and headed back to her office. The day had just been getting worse and worse... and yet no matter what she did, there was no way to salvage it. In the end, it would probably come down to someone else being fired along with Waitier... most likely Foxe, although she was tempted to serve Josh with punishment for all of the agony she'd put him through. She held her head and stopped off at the coffee machine in the bullpen to refill her coffee.

Arriving at her office, she found Danny waiting inside. Suddenly the bad feeling vanished and all that was left was a comfortable feeling that she couldn't describe. "Hey, stranger."

"Hey." he greeted. "You look beat. I'm guessing your meeting didn't go well."

C.J. made some strange noise and slumped into her chair, burying her head in her hands. "I am so ready to just go home. These people drive me insane."

"You don't have to tell me that." Danny said empathetically.

She rose her head and leaned it against a hand. "Come to schedule a time for our dinner?" she guessed.

"You read me like a book." Danny chuckled. "That's not the only reason though."

"If you've come to pester me with more questions about this whole Department of Education thing, I would refrain if I were you." C.J. warned, taking a sip from her coffee and sighing at the delectable taste.

For seconds, Danny actually looked frightened. "Wow. Not well at all, huh?"

"No." she said shortly.

"Don't worry." He reached across the desk and patted her hand. "Things can only get better."

"Oh, how I wish that sentence was true."

"So, where do you want to go tonight and when do you want to?" he changed the topic, reading the tire in her tone.

"Anywhere, anytime!" She wanted to give him free reign. All that C.J. wanted was to leave the office behind and forget all about the drudgery that she had to crawl through everyday. The work that she barely made it out of alive by the end of each day.

"Oh, okay. Um, how about I make it a surprise?"

Something about the statement instantly made the walls in C.J.'s mind stand up. But after realizing that she was being vague in her wants and needs, she let them drop. "Okay. Just as long as we don't do some ridiculous like go rollerblading."

"Not exactly what I was thinking." Danny shook with the dislike of the idea. "I've never been too partial to things where balance is a requirement."

"That's too bad."

"I'll pick you up here at around 7:00."

Hope sank in her mind. That was still several hours away... but the President wouldn't let her go any earlier than that, and she had a press briefing at 6:30. But she didn't voice any of her complains and feigned a smile. "Okay. See you at 7:00."

"Okay." Danny headed for the door, pausing at the frame. "And, C.J.?"

She glanced up. "Yeah?"

"Wear something warm." With that, he left.

'Warm?" she thought to herself, staring after him. 'But it's April...'

The phone pulsed suddenly, cutting off her thought. She stared at it for a moment before she picked up the receiver. "C.J. Cregg." she answered, hoping to God that it wasn't Michael Foxe.

"Donna..." he heard across the line faintly. She couldn't recognize the voice.

"Sorry, you have the wrong number I think." Although she was tempted to hang up, she couldn't help but wonder who would call her office searching for Donna, and why the person on the other end sounded as if they were about to keel over and die.

"I need... Donna..." she heard again. This time, the recognition came to her.

"You have caused me so much trouble today, Josh, that it isn't even funny." she snarled, half standing in her rage. "And I don't have time for your stupid antics. I hope you know what kind of rig-a-marollyou've started!"

"C.J..." Here there was a multitude of hacking through which she couldn't hear the words.

"Josh?"

"C.J... I need ..." He wasn't able to finish his sentence before he was lost into a fit of coughs. Through them and in his eerillyghostlike voice,she pulled out four words. Help. I. Need. Air.

Before she knew what she was doing, C.J. dropped the receiver and bolted down the hallway towards Donna's desk, her hands began sweating and her throat tight with instant worry. A sliver of her wondered if maybe he was making this up... but she knew those coughs, similar ones from when she'd seen Josh gasping for air on the steps of the Newseum. 'Please God, don't let this be happening again...' she prayed.

The blonde secretary looked up just as C.J. made it there. "What is it?" she gasped, noticing the frantic scare in her eyes. She'd never seen C.J. like this.

"You need to come with me right now." she ordered, half yanking Donna up from her desk, before she was off down the corridor to retrieve her car. Before she got too far, she yelled back over her shoulder, "It's Josh!"

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((Sorry to leave you on a cliff hanger here... I am evil... Mwahahahahahahahahaha!)) 


	6. Don't Give In

((Chapter 6! I got around to doing it because I got my English homework done early. Yay! This will be it for a while... at least until the 23rd. So be patient and take your time reading this chapter. I tried to incorporate lots of JD just for you guys. ))

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Donna Moss glanced down at her hands absentmindedly as she sped through traffic. The knuckles were white and no matter how much she tried, she couldn't seem to loosen her grip any... not knowing that Josh might be in some kind of trouble. She'd been trying to prepare herself for the worst; what if something had happened with his Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? What if someone had hurt him? If someone had shot him... what memories would that bring up in him? And what if he was... She looked back at the road. No! She wasn't ready to admit the possibility... not yet anyway.

She let her eyes wander to C.J. who sat in a nervous state next to her in the passenger seat, her fists balled up and her nails digging small semi-circles into her palms. It had been C.J. who had gone and got her car, prepared to drive over because she figured that Donna would be in a state of hysteria. It had turned out to be the other way around. When C.J. had climbed into the vehicle, she found that she couldn't move her arms with out some sort of tremor racking them. The thought of those coughs... of his voice on the other line had shocked her into a state that she couldn't comprehend. So Donna had driven. And true to the words that she'd told Josh himself, she didn't stop for _any_ red lights.

Her emerald eyes were back on the road once more as she questioned the Press Secretary, "What did he sound like? What did he say?"

"He was looking for you." C.J. managed in a squeaky voice. "He thought I was you. And then when he realized that it was me, he went into this coughing fit..." Here the tears began to flow, the memory of Josh's broken body on the steps of the Newseum almost a year ago was permanently etched into her mind and the player just kept rewinding in her head. All that she could see was his blood on his pale body and those haunting chokes as he had struggled for a fresh breath of air.

Donna watched as C.J. sank into a state of despair. She knew what she was thinking of. It had taken her all of her strength to keep from remembering that day... that night... the wait that she'd endured. 'I won't give up on you, Joshua.' she promised in her mind, taking a turn wide. 'Don't you give up on me.'

The car pulled up onto the curb but neither of the occupants really cared. As each of them bolted from the vehicle and swung the door open to Josh's apartment building, the same thoughts pulsed though their brains and although Donna had not wanted to recollect the hospital and the tears shed watching him in surgery, she couldn't help herself. They mounted the stairs, shoes pounding almost in near rhythm with their hearts.

Donna felt like she was about to go into respiratory distress. If only his room had been on the first floor; or somewhere closer. What if they were too late? What if not stopping for the red lights was not enough to spare him from what ever had happened to him? Rounding a corner, her heart almost stopped fully as his door fell into view. She could hardly keep herself under control as she called his name, "Josh!" She didn't care about making noise... or being embarressed... those things didn't matter enough.

C.J. somehow reached the door ahead of her and began banging her fist against the door. "Joshua!" When no answer came, she used the brunt of both hands and just smacked at it. "Joshua, you answer me right now!" She was hardly aware of what she was saying, the tears had blinded her and all of a sudden every single muscle in her body felt weak. Ordering others around was her strength, her power, her prerogative... but not in a situation like this. The virility was useless.

Fishing the keys to Josh's apartment from her pocket, Donna stabbed them into the door knob and shoved the portal in. It was relatively dark inside, the shades were drawn on the windows, and as usual things looked much like a garbage ship. C.J.'s now throaty voice called once again to the Deputy Chief of Staff. Silence loomed.

Donna stalked to the bedroom, knowing full well that was where he would be if he was telling the truth about having the flu that morning. C.J. followed hesitantly, wanting to spare herself in case Josh was indeed injured or dead. She didn't want to see his body empty of its life. That wouldn't have been Josh.

In the dusky light of the cluttered bedroom, Donna made out the long shape of the bed, the sheets thrown aside on it, yet empty of any occupant. Frowning, she surveyed from side to side, wondering where the heck he could have been. But as she stopped moving, a consistent noise caught in her ears. A dull tone... the beeping when a call is dropped or someone has hung up on you. Following the sound, Donna maneuvered to the other side of the bed and stopped her face held frozen in a panic.

Josh was sprawled on the floor, eyes closed, pallor a sickly wan with tints of blue in his cheeks and perspiration collected across the back of his neck and forehead. He only wore a pair of boxers and a t-shirt which was soaked through with sweat.

"Oh god!" she cried, kneeling down and touching his face carefully. "Josh? Josh!" she tried to rouse him, checking his pulse. It was there, but the beat was irregular and faint.

"C.J.!" she called. "Call an ambulance!"

Despite wanting to keep herself from whatever hypothetical agonies might have awaited her in the room, the Press Secretary came running at the call and came to a short stop as she noticed the lying figure. And then all of the memories came flooding back... She somehow managed to come close enough to pick up the phone and then made herself dial the number. Her brain was working so slowly and so sporadically that she could hardly remember what to dial.

Meanwhile, Donna was working to flip over Josh. Once she had, she found that his chest had stopped moving. "Don't you do this to me." she demanded with a growl in her voice. All of those times that she worried for his safety, all of the times that he had done something stupid, all of the times where he had fallen and she'd been there to take his hand... no, this would not happen. This wouldn't be the end of it. She quickly began to administer CPR, fifteen pushes to the chest for every two breaths. As long as she kept the blood circulating in the heart, then she could keep him alive longer...

She barely registered the phone beep off in C.J.'s grip. "They're coming." C.J. informed and fell to her knees by Josh. Thousands of questions flew through her mind as she tried to come up with rational explanations to them. Why did this happen? Why now? Why Josh? During the confusion of the endless monologue in her head, she reached down and touched his hand, held it in hers gently caressing it and wishing that it didn't feel as cold as it did.

"I hate you." Donna muttered between breaths.

C.J. perked at the words, her mouth agape with sudden worry. "Donna?"

"I hate you!" she screamed suddenly, beginning to push his chest all the harder. "Why are you doing this to me? Why!" Crystalline drops began to melt down her face.

"Donna..." C.J. tried to comfort, reaching her other arm over.

Instead, Donna jerked from the touch and kept administering CPR.

C.J. flinched and removed her hand, knowing that there was nothing she could do to calm the frazzled secretary.

"I'm not giving up on you..." Donna muttered, closing her eyes, rocking back and forth. "Don't give in... don't do this to me again, Joshua..."

His face remained placid; his expression plain. The pain seared its way into her soul. Still, she kept at it. "I've watched you when you were bleeding; I've seen you when you felt less than yourself... this isn't something that is going to stop you. You are stronger than this. Don't give in!"

With in the last two breaths, Josh's mouth cracked a little and a small cry of agony escaped. Though his eyes remained closed and he didn't look much better, Donna couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips. "There. I told you, you were stronger than this."

"Donna?" he rasped, his voice distant and ghostly.

"Be quiet. The ambulance is coming. Just lay still."

The effort to breathe was horribly difficult, his energy was already spent and the more he tried to draw a breath in, the tighter things became in his chest. A pitiful whimper left his lips as she stroked his hair. "I know it hurts. Just concentrate on breathing." she ordered, bending over lower so that their faces were only a few inches apart; her eyes staring softly into his. "I'm not moving from this spot. I won't leave you."

When the paramedics did arrive, they wasted no time in shoving Donna aside, and hooking him up to several wires and an EKG. After strapping him onto the backboard, they lifted him into the dark tunnel of the ambulance to which Donna and C.J. dutifully followed. Donna's face never left Josh's, remaining content eye contact and keeping a weary smile, because that was all that she could muster. She answered as many questions as she could and then when they were done, she was lost to her own thoughts again. She heard several things on the ride that took forever; bradying down, something about a third degree atrioventricular block... she didn't know what that was. But it sounded bad. No matter what she heard, she continued to comfort him, saying in her careful and kind voice, "I'm not leaving you."

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((Wow. Much more depressing than I'd thought it would be. Reviews welcome of course and Au revoir until the 23rd, I'll be writing chapters for you guys!)) 


	7. Four Stagnated Minds

((Chapter 7 just for you guys! I have returned from my long luxurious vacation in France and Spain, and on Sunday, endured the plane travels through several different time zones in order to get back and write more for y'all. Now that I'm all relaxed and have gathered more inspiration from the things that I witnessed abroad, I will now bring you the long awaited continuation of Josh in distress and Donna's forever enduring love. Hehe. Terribly sorry for the wait. Listened to Numb by Cinephile for inspiration in this chapter. If you have it, I recommend listening to it while reading. If you don't have it, find some slow pulse music.))

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In the blackness of her deranged thoughts, Donna could only see bright flashes of colour, images which caused a horror deep in the crevises and folds of her brain. The brilliant tints of red and yellow that didn't have any sort of meaning nor purpose at all. All through them, his scream daunted her and caused her to shrink back in pain. If only she could make him stop, if only there was someway that she could calm and sooth him. But his face held the impenetrable terror on it, and from his chest she could see the blood that freely poured and stained the ground beneath him. Her fingers and arms, no matter how outstretched they were, were not able to reach him. The sunbursts of vibrant colours fell into deep shades of greens and blues and finally molded into a pasty white.

Her orbs opened drowzilly to the scene of the hospital waiting room. Slowly shapes began to take form; several other grey chairs... just as uncomfortable as the one she found herself slumped in, and a few tables here and there holding magazines. A television murmured quietly from the left corner of the room but other than that, silence reigned.

Sitting up and holding back her yawn, she cringed as she felt her back crick from the position she had been in. Shaking her head a little, she gazed around, trying desperately to recall the events that had brought her back to this hell. Had this last year been an entire dream? Was Josh still struggling and fighting for his life in the surgery room when he had been shot at the Newseum? Was she wrong to assume that everything was going to be fine... and everything that she had experienced had been a mere hope? For several minutes, she did.

A hand fell across her shoulder, snapping her out of her private confusion and brought her sights to Sam, whom was sitting beside her. He was not wearing the same clothes that he had been wearing when Josh had been shot so long ago... there was no blood on them... though he did look frightened.

"Hey." he whispered. His blue eyes seemed to radiate the pain that had ensnared the both of them.

"Hey." she responded without much feeling. She knew where she was now... she knew why she was there.

"How are you?"

"As good as could be expected I guess." The image of the ambulance zipping down the road returned to her. She turned her head at the sudden thought.

"Do you want some coffee or something?" he offered, noticing her sudden discomfort.

"Sure." she replied, not really understanding the question. The siren noises in her mind were loud and it was as if she were watching everything all over again in her brain, she could even see her startled self trying to hold on to Josh.

Sam picked himself up from the chair and exited the room, closing the door quiescently.

Now alone, she found the intensity of the memories, the smells and the sights, especially the sounds as the focused on them. Everything had looked as if it was going to be fine... Josh was breathing on his own, however faint it had been, his heart beat had grown a little stronger. And then... he fell away.

He slipped into a nothingness all of a sudden. It had shocked her at first and unable to speak, she just sat like a statue trying to comprehend what had just happened. He had been there, he had spoken to her and then all of a sudden, he'd been sucked into the quicksand of darkness. His heart rate beeped erratically, and soon there was none at all. In that moment, she'd begun to shout his name frantically, her hand in a death grip on his and sobs choking her, making it impossible to breathe. Once they had reached the hospital, they had taken him away from her, and the last she'd seen of him was hispallid likeness drift down a dim corridor towards surgery.

The door slammed and she whipped her head to it quickly.

Sam rose his head and blinked a couple of times, two cups of steaming fluid in his hands. "Sorry." he apologized briefly and handed the styrofoam cup to her cold fingers. She grasped it and let it sit in her lap, bringing warmth to her chilled appendages. Sam had come almost immediately once he'd heard the news. Apparently C.J. had been able to contact him once they had reached the hospital.

Donna's eyes swept over the other occupants of the room. C.J. was still there, but Donna could sense that she wasn't all there... in her mind anyway. It had been a trauma to see Josh like that again... weak, something that he wasn't and it had taken the Press Secretary in a way she had not expected. Even as Danny sat next to her trying to comfort her, she knew deeply that the only thing that would satisfy anyone would be to see Josh back on his feet, just as before. 'April Fools.' she thought to herself with a chill rippling across her.

Leo sat quietly in another corner of the room, rolling something back and forth in his hand, his solitude apparent. He didn't need anyone to comfort him. Many a time he had seen others who were too young die for reasons less than satisfactory or honorable. He'd seen others throw away their lives when they didn't have to. Still, through all of this grief and experience, it didn't make the idea any less shocking to find that Josh was once again in peril... in a way that he could not help in.

The item that he was holding had been a cigar. Most of the other people in the room wondered about its significance and why Leo, a man who didn't smoke, was carrying one, especially in a hospital waiting room. The point of it wasn't its use... it was the stimulation of a memory; of a person whom if he was here right now would probably be disappointed in him; Josh's father, Noah Lyman. He had promised the man that he would take care and look after his son in the fast paced and often dangerous world of the White House and the West Wing. But he hadn't kept that promise... twice now. He had been so blinded with thoughts of Josh not being there, anger even because he hadn't shown up to perform his duties. How could he have been so numb?

The last occupant of the room was pacing, uncontrollably if that could be imagined. His hand rubbed his beard carefully and his eyes were lost; lost in ponderances and things that he had hoped he wouldn't have to see again. Toby Ziegler was a man of order... a man who didn't like to witness chaos. When chaos presented itself, he was helpless to deal with it. Chaos like the attack in Rosalyn... where if he had known better, and thought more rationally, he might have at least been with Josh when the gunfire began... perhaps kept him out of danger. Stagnated with the thoughts, Toby had also been traumatized by the events of the previous year although he dealt with them in a way where he was isolated and left to deal with the memories on his own. It had helped some. He wouldn't and could never forgive himself for that day however, and he would never forget all that he saw and did in that day, even if it seemed like one giant blur now.

Each of them paced. Each of them thought. Each one of them had cried or been drowned in their worry and fear at one point or another. Although each one of them had the other for support; no one accepted it or wanted it. A family drifted apart by the thought of losing one of their own as they waited patiently...

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((All I can write now. I've got to get to school. Chapter 7 will be up within the next couple of days. Much more JD to come then. I needed a mood chapter though. Reviews are welcome.)) 


	8. Living for You

(Chapter 8. I want to sincerely apologize for how long it has taken me. I'm despicable. I listened to Hello by Evanescence for this chapter. It is a deep song, really did the trick. I almost cried while writing it.))

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Hello...

I'myour mind

Giving you someone to talk to...

Hello...

* * *

Lost in a swirling vortex inside himself, Josh knew somehow that this was the way it was always going to be. He was always going to be weak or in trouble; always needing of someone else's help; her help. Every time he thought he saw her sweet visage over him, it turned into a shadow and slowly melted away out of his vision. Why was she not there? And where exactly was he? Sweeps of black and grey that spiraled in and out of his vision, creating an unbearable nausea in his stomach, and making his heart pound. But there was something wrong. It wasn't going fast enough. It wasn't working right. How could that be? The love he felt towards his friends and family remained, in fact, it even seemed stronger than before; so how could his heart not be beating?

* * *

"If I smile and don't...

believe...

soon I know, I'll wake from this dream...

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The President of the United States lay in his bed with Abbey at his side. His light blue eyes were opened wide however, and locked on the linen separating his view from the ceiling. The Senate Minority Whip was going tat for tat with his Press Secretary while threatening to end Josh Lyman's career, Waitier from the Department of Education was prepping hackers to destroy their most vital systems, Russian satellites were falling out of the sky, he had just announced that he was running for a second term a few months ago, his secretary and one of his good friends since he was in college had been killed in a car accident, he'd announced to the world that he had MS... Even in the midst of all of these thoughts, one could not escape him; that his Deputy Chief of Staff, Josh Lyman, was in the hospital.

"Jed..." Abbey's whisper reached him, through his collected thoughts.

"Yeah." he asked, his voice drained of its usual fire and zeal for his job. Sometimes he hated it and this one was one of those times.

"You're not sleeping..." she turned over so that she looked up, her eyes were sleepy and her voice was filled with depletion.

"No." he answered. A part of him wanted sleep but his mind warded the feeling off before it reached him.

"Why?" This time, it was more like her usual tone, the inquisitiveness and concern she held for her field of medicine.

"Just thinking, I guess." This in itself was a true statement; he didn't feel the need to elaborate. Besides, his contemplation crossed practically every subject.

"About Josh?" she guessed.

Damn, she hit it right on the nose every time. But she had known that it had been bothering him and so it wasn't anything miraculous about her deciphering it. "How did you guess?" he asked.

"He's going to be fine, Jed. Donna, Leo, and Sam are with him. Now that the doctors know what is wrong with him, they can help him." she reasoned.

"I know." he responded limply. Somehow that didn't help the thought any more.

There was more silence, so he continued. "I just wish that there was more that I could do."

Abbey turned to face him. "You can do something, Jed. You can pray for him."

Jed Bartlett's face grew cold just to think that doing that might be the only way to save Josh.

"I want to go see him." he decided.

"You have appointments tomorrow, Jed." Abbey reminded him.

"I don't have anything right now, do I?" he asked, shifting his position to look at her square in the eye.

* * *

Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken...

Hello...

I'm the lie, living for you so you can hide...

Don't cry...

* * *

Sam sat staring at the coffee cups as if it were some sort of void. He'd been staring at it for the better part of an hour and had failed to realize that it was cold as ice now and without much flavor. Hospital coffee never tasted quite good... it had a malady sort of taste to it, something that reminded him of why he was there and how much longer he was going to be there.

Leo had been watching the Deputy Communications Director for most of that time and could identify with the lost look in his eyes. However he was afraid for Sam, about how awful and terrible he might have been feeling or how empty that room was; how silent with only Josh's heart monitor and his shallow breaths for noise... the only complacency that told them that he was still alive.

"Aren't you going to drink that?" Leo finally asked him.

Sam blinked a few times to adjust from his vegetation and said with a slightly hoarse voice, "No." He was going to... once upon a time but had remembered the ill way if made him feel and had decided against it. However, he was falling asleep and needed something to keep him awake besides the increasing worry.

"Do you want me to get a new cup for you?" Leo asked, almost as if he knew what Sam was thinking.

"Yeah, thanks." Sam appreciated, handing the cold fluid to Leo.

"I'll be right back." Leo assured, standing with a groan. He'd been sitting in that chair for what seemed like 10 hours straight vigil, not wanting to leave Josh's side. He could perceive as his bones seemed to creak. He hated being old but it wasn't something that he could change.

"Okay." Sam said shortly, turning his sky blue eyes back to his bedridden friend.

Leo turned around before he left the room. "And Sam?"

The deputy faced the chief of staff once more.

"He's going to be just fine. We're all here for him." Leo said with intentions of solace. However Sam didn't seem to get anything from the words. He wasn't thinking about what was going to happen to Josh as much as he worried about what had happened. He'd made a poor assumption that Josh had been fooling and kidding with being out sick.

Somehow through all of the self-blaming thoughts, he meekly answered, "Yeah." Leo disappeared to retrieve the coffees.

Sam, now alone, stood and yawned with weariness. He stood beside Josh's sleeping form, catching the painful winces that appeared on his face every so often. He let his eyes fall to Donna's sleeping form who was in the chair on the opposite side of the bed. Both hands were clutching one of Josh's and from the way she sat crouched up, he know that this had been the hardest on her. He only wished that he could comfort her more. But that was not likely to happen. Donna had a special connection with Josh that the others couldn't sever or interfere with. And it was also likely that she would not move from that very position until Josh himself awoke. He leaned in to study Donna and found tears rolling down her cheeks.

* * *

Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping...

HowI'm still here...

All that's left of yesterday..

* * *

As Leo drifted down the hallway to collect the coffee, he moved without rhyme or reason, he moved like he had no purpose and he had let Josh down somehow. He tossed the old coffee away and held the paper cup under the machine as it came pouring out, the warm and piceous liquid bringing feeling into his hands once more. Maybe he shouldn't have left Sam and Donna alone... the way that they both looked, the way that Sam's eyes had sunk, become depressed and disastrous, as if he were going to retch; as if he put the personal guilt all on himself... Leo suddenly worried that he hadn't done much to help anyone.

A stinging inferno on his hands brought him back to reality as he noticed that the coffee had begun to spill over the rim and down onto the floor. "Shit!" he swore under his breath, setting the cup down and reaching for a wad of paper towels that sat next to it. As he began to dab at the puddle, he heard footsteps approaching.

Standing up and throwing the messy paper towels away, he turned just in time to come face to face with Josiah Bartlett.

"Mr. President." he said, some how lost inside of himself. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see my son." Jed replied, sadness drowning in his eyes. "I came to help keep watch."

Leo's eyes became an even clearer blue-grey with the words and he didn't have the heart to smile... even try. He took his arm and wrapped it around the President's shoulders before saying carefully. "This way, Mr. President." The two figures walked slowly down the hall, two souls comforted by one another, disappearing around the next corner to their fallen companion.

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((Be on the look out for Chapter 9, Monday afternoon. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.)) 


	9. Despite Feeling Comfort

((Sorry about being a day late. I'm not positive when I'll get around to doing Chapter 10, once again, this entire month is kind of full, but hopefully sometime in this weekly time frame I will be able to do it. Thanks for the reviews!))

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The President entered the hospital room with a heavy heart and a grim demeanor, even though hope was still on the horizon. Leo had filled him in on exactly what had happened; how he had been out complaining of flu-like symptoms, how Donna and C.J. had found him in his apartment, and how on the way to the hospital, he had entered asystole and flat lined for a little while. Upon reaching George Washington University Hospital, they had prepped him for surgery and begun immediately at trying to save Josh's life. Unfortunately nothing could be done for his already malfunctioning heart.

Quickly, a pacemaker had been inserted after using the defibrillation machine to bring a rhythm back to his heart. This stabilized it but it had only been in for a couple of hours now; and Josh hadn't awoken yet. Hope was starting to drift...

Jed Bartlett approached Josh's still lying form and touched his hand to the unconscious man's shoulder. "Why did this have to happen?" he asked quietly to himself, not intending for anyone to answer.

Leo, whom stood nearby, bowed his head, for the first time in his life not knowing exactly what to say or how to comfort his best friend. It had been a tough past couple of years; especially learning that Jed had been diagnosed with an idiopathic disease and there was nothing that the doctors could do, nothing that Abbey could do but to give him Beta-Interferon shots to try and cope with the symptoms. Josh had nearly died a year ago, not one of his better memories but not one that he could easily forget either. Things just didn't seem to want to slow down. Perhaps politics wasn't the right career for him. It had been this way in the war; seeing friends dying.. he thought he'd got away from it when he decided to manage Bartlett's campaign... when he decided to become the Chief of Staff in the White House. Instead, he had been wrong. Dead wrong.

Sam stood by a window, his back turned to the rest of the people in the room, staring out at the rain that had begun some time ago and the thunder that shook the building every once in a while. He hadn't expected the President to show up... he'd actually thought that Toby was supposed to come soon... he'd said that he would on the phone. Maybe he'd been caught up in something. C.J. had gone back to the office; a wreck that she was with Danny who had to drive her; but something told him everything would be alright, in spite of the crappy feeling that had made a home inside of him for the time being.

"Sam." a voice said, though he barely registered it.

"Huh?" he responded as if in a dream.

"Sam." Bartlett said more firmly.

The writer turned around to face the older man, his eyes gleaming with want to cry but the stubbornness that kept him from doing it. Josiah Bartlett's own eyes mirrored it. Both stared into each other, mirrors to their own feelings, their own torment that they'd gone through in the last few hours; connected in some way that neither could entirely understand. However, both knew that despite the sickening swirl in their hearts, they were truly not alone.

"Go home and get some sleep. Leo and I will be here." he assured, a gentle smile coming to his face.

Sam wasn't able to return the comforting look. Instead, he nodded silently and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair next to Donna and exited without looking back. As the door closed quiescently, Bartlett blew out a held in breath.

"I worry about him sometimes." he spoke freely, taking note of the still sleeping Donna; still clutching Josh's hand like there was no tomorrow.

"Who? Sam?" Leo checked.

"Mmm," he nodded. "He seems to have a penchant for remorse. I can see it in his face although he tries to hide it."

"I agree."

"That boy had better not go back to the office." Josiah shook his head. "Maybe if I get the chance to later, I'll have a word with him."

Leo nodded. "That's a good idea."

The President settled in the seat where Sam had made his temporary home and set his eyes on Donna. "She sure is one devoted girl, isn't she?"

"Are you kidding me? She has to be the most devoted." Leo chuckled, sitting next to him.

"Do you remember the time when Donna tried to convince Josh that he should fund a bill for secretaries with Carpal Tunnel Syndrome?" Jed reminisced, a smile brightening his face momentarily.

"Of course. She tried to pull that one on me too."

"And the time when Josh bought flowers for Donna to celebrate the anniversary of her coming back to work for him?"

"No." Leo said quietly shaking his head. "He didn't tell me about that one."

A crackle of lightning lit up the room temporarily before a monstrous crash of thunder burst from the pit in the sky. Donna shook out of her sleep, lifting her head up gradually. Once she noticed the two figures in the chairs, she gasped and collected herself before she said, "Mr. President. I didn't know that you were here."

"It's okay, Donna. Why don't you go home and get some rest?"

"I promised Josh that I would stay. Besides, I don't think that I would be able to sleep anywhere else." she admitted, taking a sip of her cold coffee from the bedside table.

"That's fine. I just stopped in to check up and find out if there had been any results or... if he'd woke up yet."

"Not yet." Leo answered. "Not yet."

* * *

C.J. stalked down the communication Bull pin hall, mind set and directed on a mission; to do something, anything to occupy her so that she wouldn't stop to think about Josh every second. Her steps were short, her posture rigid and her face tensed.

She threw her coat onto the couch and slid on her glasses. "Carol!" she yelled.

The brunette assistant appeared in the doorway. Although she knew very little about what had transpired that afternoon, she could see that C.J. was feeling extremely desperate and bogged down.

"Get me Toby." the Press Secretary demanded, shuffling through the papers that had begun to pile up on her desk.

Carol disappeared to retrieve the Communication's Director.

C.J. ended up just pushing the files to the corner of her desk, and starting a new with more space. When she glanced up, she had a direct view of Josh's office. Her breath stilled as she thought about his condition.

At this time, Toby circled the corner and came to a stop in the doorway. "C.J.?" he checked.

"Come here, Toby." she answered with fatigue, waving a hand.

Toby closed the portal behind him and sat down on the couch.

C.J. threw off her glasses and held her head. She felt so tired...

"What happened to Danny?" he broke the ice, casually checking around for the reporter.

"He had to go cancel some plans that he made for us." C.J. revealed.

"'Us'?" Toby repeated. "You two were..."

"He had a surprise for me. I accepted his 'dating idea'." she tried to make it sound arbitrary.

"I thought you said he was a leech."

"He can be. Sometimes. But after a while it gets kind of attractive." she admitted.

"A kind-of-attractive leech. The first and last time I will ever here those words uttered in the same sentence."Toby thought out loud.

C.J. only chuckled a little before taking a large sigh and drinking a little of her bottled water to keep the tears back. Danny had been so sweet and had planned a romantic evening... if only... if only...

"How are you?" he asked sympathetically, returning to the matter at hand.

She lifted her head and viewed him over; he looked just as exhausted.

"I'm tired." she began in more of a frail voice than she was used to.

"Me too." he answered, rubbing his temples.

C.J. suddenly felt sorry for Toby. She could only imagine what he had gone through when he'd heard about Josh's condition... He had to endure two of these kinds of announcements in less than a month... she could tell from how he appeared that he'd been shocked, and frightened with the thoughts of someone so close to him as a friend, hurting so badly.

"How are you holding up... with this news?" she questioned, feeling that he might be more than just tired.

Toby scoffed and covered his eyes with a hand. "I feel hopeless... like there is nothing that I can do that will help." he revealed with a tragic smile.

"When it starts happening to everyone you care about, you begin to wonder if maybe you might be losing it too." C.J. nearly choked on her words, voicing exactly how she felt in that moment. She'd been dying to tell someone that would understand her. "And if you are; you begin to wish that you had already lost it so that you didn't have to watch the pain on their faces as they suffered."

The President had MS, Leo was an alcoholic, Sam's ex-fiancee died in the September 11th attacks and a little before that, his father had finally left his mother, Josh had been shot and now... was still not out of death's grip. It seemed as if the only two who had not suffered from some kind of life endangering or career-ending tragedy were the two of them.

Toby had looked up and was peering at her with heightened concern. This was the first time he'd seen her so emotionally crippled since the shooting at Roselyn and it indicated that it had been too much for her to see Josh in that way in his apartment earlier. "It's up to us to stand up for them, C.J." he said. "We are all they've got. And they are all we've got. We stick together like family."

The shadow of a smile appeared on her face and she moved forward from her chair to embrace the Communications Director in a hug. It wasn't limp or feigned, put on so that they could fake any feelings of friendship that they had ever had for one another. There was a tightness, a closeness, a brotherly-sisterly bond that had been formed between them, something that no amount of fighting of disagreeing could ever do. The companionship in that room was probably one of the first steps that had been taken to bring the senior White House staffers together during the arduous times that had only just begun.

* * *

TBC... 


	10. The Dark Twisted Road

((Chapter 10! Thank you for the reviews, Miss Jasadin. They are always well appreciated.))

* * *

Toby was driving now; he'd left C.J. sleeping in her office under the care of Carol until Danny arrived. He felt no shame in leaving her there; she needed the rest. Meanwhile he had things to do, things to say, and another person to look after. Hugging the press secretary in his office only minutes before had opened up something in him that could not let his usually apathetic personality continue on. He had been that way the first time that Josh had been shot; to Donna. He had told her about Josh with out any sort of emotion in his tone... something that he later regretted and was hardly proud of. But he had done his best to save his friend that night and it seemed as if it had all been for nothing; not when this was happening, here, and now.

He surveyed the street lights as his car passed beneath them. Like a silent wave of black in a subterranean tunnel, his car moved closer and closer towards the hospital, nearer and nearer to something that he was hardly ready to take in. He'd felt these feelings of fright before, he'd felt them everyday since the attack in Roslyn, worrying that if he went back to work the next day something else might happen... and what if it was him this time... or someone else he cared for deeply... like his secretary, Ginger, or Sam, or even C.J. ... Toby pressed a hand against his forehead. No, he wouldn't think those thoughts. He wouldn't allow himself to. It was hardly going to help him get over these feelings that had been different ever since the shooting.

When he looked at what luck he had been blessed with, he saw it in the faces of his friends and family of the White House, even the intern who had spilled coffee on him two days before and not apologized for it. He knew that even though things seemed to be falling into the pits with the way things were, there was still a chance for things to lighten up. As long as people didn't continue to be swept into the darkness of the present events, there still might have been some sort of hope to spread around. But with Toby being the pessimist that he was, it was barely possible for him to hold onto the shred of chance by himself, he needed someone else's help...

Pulling into the hospital's vast parking lot, he found an empty space by what he recognized to be C.J.'s car that she had left and pulled in, turning off the engine. But instead of exiting the vehicle, he remained sitting there, almost with no thought at all. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be thinking right now. It was the middle of the night... perhaps they didn't even need his help. All the same... Sam and Leo were probably tired and needed a rest. He didn't mind staying. Donna was probably ready to hit the sack as well... although he knew there was almost no chance of her leaving Josh's bed side. He smirked at this. A connection that the two of them both realized but refused to admit that was there. He'd wanted to smack Josh for being so oblivious... this was hardly the time for that.

He stepped out into the surprisingly cool night air, gales whipping his coat around as if trying to tear it from him. He tied the belt tightly around his waist and jogged towards the building to get out of the torrents of rain and overbearing wind. On his approach toward the doors, he found a secret service agent to which he had to show his White House id to. He frowned, wondering what the reason was for the protection. Only when he had reached Josh's room and passed several other security guards who were securing the floor did he understand. The President and Leo were sitting, watching Josh in two chairs beside the bed. On the other was Donna, whom though awake, looked as though she were about to drop off again. Each appeared vigil; each appeared purposeful. He suddenly wished he looked that way.

The President rose his head to Toby's arrival. "Toby." he said in greeting, rising from his chair slowly.

"Any news yet?" the communications director asked straight-faced, and locking his eyes onto Bartlett.

"He hasn't woken up yet." he replied, eyes downcast to the floor.

Toby sighed. "How long has it been since surgery?"

Bartlett looked to Leo for help on the answer.

The Chief of Staff picked up his head. He was nodding off; his face looked sallow and weary. "It was hours ago."

Toby's nearly black eyes shifted to Donna, who had not looked up from Josh, her eyes focused on him as if lost in some sort of trance. "How is she?" he whispered to the President.

"As worried as one can be." he said and went to sit back down. He touched Leo's shoulder before he fell asleep again. "I think we should go." He then turned his attention to Toby. "Are you going to be alright here without us?"

"I'll do just fine, Mr. President." he lied. Secretly, he wasn't sure if he could handle being alone. But he hid this. He hid this from everyone.

"Alright." The two older men gathered their belongings, promised him that they would return if they needed him, and to call if they needed anything or if he had any news. He nodded and told them he would.

Once they had left, he slumped into a chair, and rested his eyes on Josh.

Donna took the opportunity to notice him at that moment, her usually bright blue eyes dulled some. "Oh, Toby. I didn't even realize you were here. Where did the President and Leo go?"

Toby was slightly bewildered. She must have really been out of it. "They needed some sleep. I came to..." he paused here, not knowing what to say, which was not like him at all. He was a writer, part of his profession was always knowing what to say and how to say it. But this time, he felt himself at a loss of words. What was he doing? Keeping watch? Standing guard? Visiting?

"To..?" Donna questioned, still groggy.

"...to see if you needed company." he eventually finished.

She chuckled a little at this. "I'm afraid I'm not very good company right now. I can't seem to do anything but stare at him." Donna said the last part of this slowly, and turned her eyes to him again.

"Do you want a coffee?" he offered. He could use one himself.

"No. Not really." she replied in a dejected tone, her eyes remaining in the same place.

A small fire inside of him died. He didn't want to leave her alone... coffee was out of the question. He knew that without it, he'd probably begin to doze. Hopefully he wouldn't.

"When was the last time that you ate anything?" he wondered out loud.

"Lunch." There was no effort behind her voice.

"I'll be right back." he decided and left.

His walk down to the hospital café was a long one, a tiresome one, a lonely one, one that he wished he didn't have to walk alone but he knew it would have been pointless to ask for Donna to come with him. He was always the one who walked these lonely dark roads and sometimes made it to the ends of them; sometimes not depending on which road it was. This, he could feel was only the beginning of a twisting winding dirt trail, shadowed, with surprises waiting around the next bend... for the better or for the worst.

He began on his way back towards Josh's room, carrying a tray for Donna and nothing for himself but a pouch of orange juice, he wasn't very hungry. Turning down the hallway, he heard shouting. At first, he was inclined to believe that it was another patient... Donna wasn't in the mood to be shouting unless there was something wrong. His thoughts perked at this thought and holding onto the trays with as much might as he could, he ran down the corridor towards Josh's room. Sweat began to bead across his forehead, wondering what could have happened so quickly in his absence; but suddenly realized that the voice sounded rather... happy. This puzzled him severely. As he neared, he heard what she was screaming. "He's awake! He's awake!"

Skidding to a halt at the entrance way to the room, he noticed that a nurse had come in to check Josh's EKG and do a few simple tests ie: blood pressure and so on. When she stepped out of the way and attended to something else, Toby noticed Josh's dark eyes were open, very slightly, and locked on Donna who stood nearby, probably thanking her lucky stars that this had happened and Josh didn't appear to be in too much pain.

After he'd noticed that he was lingering in the doorway, he set the tray down in one of the empty seats and approached Donna, who latched onto him and made him dance about as if he were some sort of doll with her. He did not care though. Overcome with emotion and a silent relief, he hugged her tightly, all the while his own eyes never leaving Josh, who looked around at the display in confusion. "It's good to have you back." he said quietly to his bedridden friend.

Donna had broken down in his arms and was crying with the gratefulness swelling in her. Toby held her until she seemed to calm down a little. Once she was in control of her joy once again, she took hold of Josh's hand and with a brilliance on her face, and rubbed his cheek with the other hand.

"Am I where I think I am?" Josh said hoarsely, trying to clear his throat.

"Yeah." she replied.

"Not surprised." he answered, sighing a little and taking notice of Toby. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." the communications director said. "You really had us worried."

"That seems to be what I'm good at." Josh scoffed. "What the hell happened?"

"Your heart." Donna tried to explain, her voice cracking. "You developed a block. They had to do surgery."

Josh's eyes were shrouded with perplexity, trying to figure out what Donna was saying.

"They gave you a pacemaker."

His brows furrowed slowly, his mouth slightly agape. "They... I needed..." he stuttered.

Toby watched from the background, feeling that they were diving deeper into the darker side of the ocean with each and every realization. He almost couldn't listen anymore.

* * *

TBC... 


	11. Contention

Sometimes it only takes a look. One funny look or one stupid short look to realize that everything you've worked for has been toppled over like a tower of building blocks. A politician recognizes this easily. They've been wrecking and ruining things just about as much as they've been trying to steady or renew ideas. For Josh, a former lawyer with a strong background in politics, this was the clear indication that things were headed in the wrong direction. The look that he got was from Donna the minute he'd opened his eyes on the chalky room and seen her pale and weary face light up. An immediate feeling of discomfort hit him first; not like it hadn't been the first time that he'd woken up and Donna had been near... he stopped, trying to rephrase what he meant. He'd fallen asleep plenty of times in the office... once he'd been drunk. And she had always been there when he'd awoken, with some quip or useful advice in which he usually forgot because his head was pounding so hard.

Now was different though. He was not in his office. He was not in a position that he'd fall asleep in if he'd been in his office. His brain was foggy... if that was possible. His thoughts were dismembered, like they'd been thrown in a wood chipper. He remembered a phone call he'd had with Donna, the touch of her soft hand on his cheek, someone that he had never seen before had taken him away from her... it had been a moment of pivotal fear for him. Just remembering it sent a chill through all of his extremities. And now, that look of joy meant something bad. Something bad had happened to him and although he was having a difficult time remembering it, he wondered to himself if any of the stuff had happened since the attack in Roslyn, and if he was still recovering from being shot there. That was a ridiculous thought. Donna hadn't been there with him in that ambulance a year ago... nor any time before that. It meant what had happened that he'd thought he'd only dreamed was real. And his suspicions were proved once Toby entered the room and hipped and hoorayed with Donna.

Despite being nauseous and harboring a splitting headache from the entire ordeal, he too was relieved to know that he was still alive, although pieces were missing from the experience. This disturbed him... not knowing what had passed. Every one was in such a state of euphoria that he was not able to ask what had happened.

When he'd finally gathered their attention, it had been with the intention of aiming this exact quagmire. He however was met with an explanation he wasn't entirely ready to take on. A pacemaker... they'd put a pacemaker in him. Just like his own father whom had suffered from heart problems at an early age straight on into his later years... he appeared to be following the same gritty path. And now that he realized this, it filled his heart with terror and a contention of whether or not it had been the right decision to place a pacemaker in him or not. Did he want to be cooped up in his apartment the rest of his life, avoiding microwaves and the like for fear of it messing with the rhythm and beat of his heart...? Was he really ready to adjust to the kind of life where no work at all was involved? Once you'd had a problem with your heart... it was all down hill from there... it was _all _down hill.

He'd been a vibrant young man once, with a taste for everything challenging. It had been a time when he had his skepticism and humor as weapons to take on anyone that came his way. Then he had joined Josiah Bartlett's campaign. And since that time he had lost his father, been shot, and had a heart block. Ever since he'd been shot, it felt as if he'd aged double every day. Things became slower and harder to do, tougher to figure out. He just wasn't the same as he had once been. And he hated admitting this. He still wasn't able to convince himself that maybe he was at the last of his useful road, time to turn down another.

* * *

Donna sat in her seat, concern carved into her face as she watched Josh just sit there like a log, staring off into space. He'd been like that for at least five minutes, his mouth gaped open, his dark eyes wide with fear. She'd touched his hand; he hadn't reacted. She had called his name; he hadn't responded. She'd called a nurse but no one had showed up yet. There had been some sort of emergency in the lobby, a car crash involving at least six cars. The floor was bare, with the exception of Toby, who paced the hallways as if needing something to haunt.

She took hold of Josh's clammy hand once again, stroking the back of it. "Josh?" she spoke softly, gazing into his drained face, in hopes of bringing him out of his troubled contemplation. Her efforts were in vain. There he stayed locked away.

"Josh." she said more firmly. "You're starting to really scare me. I know you're scared. But I'm here. I'm here to help you with anything you'd like me to help you with. I'd do anything for you. You know that." she pleaded, blue eyes earnest and tortured, wondering if he'd even heard her at all.

* * *

She'd be there for him to do anything. He'd be totally incapacitated the rest of his life, eating his food through a straw and peeing through a tube into a bag. His heart would cripple him until the only thing that would work would be his ears, something that would remind him of the constant torture day after day after day... His heart was damaged... weak... not as strong as it had been. Did she not understand? When you lost your heart, you were less than half of yourself. He'd been shot... that had changed him for the worst... he'd lost sight of who he was and all that he'd become from then on out. And now that this unfortunate travesty had occurred... who knew what else might happen? Hurling cats and dogs down on him in buckets, this was what this world was destined to do to him no matter what path he did choose... where was his father when he truly needed his comfort? He needed someone who understood the meaning of being broken... of being less than whole... less than half...

* * *

The fright escalated in Donna when Josh's eyes began to tear and drops slowly fell down his cheeks and into his open mouth. But she didn't know why? Did he not understand all that she was willing to give up for him? That she was not willing to back down at any time? That she loved him?

* * *

TBC... 


	12. A Net to Catch You

Blue eyes met brown. The older stared into the young, looking for some sort of sign that he was still awake to the world. All of the indications he had given them were not satisfying. All that he found in those dark orbs was a terrible fright, one that wanted nothing more than to fly from this place and into a safe haven. He knew what Josh was considering, pondering; he knew that the man most like his son was dreading being alive like this.

Leo stepped back, examining all of Josh's body. He was slouched down in his bed, arms lucid and mouth dropped, eyes an actual window to his soul; his petrified soul. He carefully said his name, touching the palm of his hand to Josh's warm cheek. Nothing stirred. His son was locked inside something he could not break through.

"Please." he said again, rubbing his hand through Josh's hair.

Still nothing.

Leo took a moment to stand up straight and glance around the empty room. Donna had called him; probably because she didn't know what to do and figured he knew the answer... he didn't. But that was beside the point. He had actually come, thinking he might be able to break him from what ever trance had taken his thoughts. Apparently not.

He had never done this before. He didn't know what would awaken his consciousness back to the real world, he was not a psychologist. But he did know hearts. He knew about broken, malfunctioned, no longer working hearts... yet not how to consol their owners. He himself was an owner of one of these hearts though he had never told anyone, not even Jed, his closest friend. It was because of the alcohol, something that he just could never give up because it was what kept him cool, and alive. It was what helped him keep a steady hand and head in his days at the office... before he realized how much it hurt. Not just to him but to others around him. It had made his wife leave him... that was something he would never be able to mend, no matter what grand scheme he devised.

He had found out his heart was at serious risk for developing a block, for having an attack on one of his routine doctor's check ups. He hadn't wanted to go that day, probably because he knew that if he did, bad news was bound to drip upon him in some way, shape, or form. And it had. When he had heard, he didn't want anyone trying to talk him down. The same exact thoughts that were running through Josh's head now had run through him then. It was when he realized that he still had his daughter and sister to live for that he decided he'd continue living his life, never letting such trivial things as bleeding hearts stand in the way. And so he had. And though nothing had happened yet, there was always that chance stinging in the back of his mind, telling him that the possibility and the opportunity would always be present; only when it was truly his time to go. He glanced down at Josh. He knew what to say now.

Leo leaned in close, his hand rested on Josh's shoulder. "I know you can hear me." he began slowly, his eyes burning with determination. "I know you can see me even though you don't want to. You can. And your going to listen to what I'm going to tell you, Josh. Because I know you. And you know me."

Easing down into a chair, Leo continued. "My heart is in the same kind of agony as yours is in. It's been beaten up from just about every angle, shot down, broken up, and ripped to shreds in the past couple of years because of the stress I and others place on it. Yours nearly killed you tonight. And mine is a ticking time bomb that will finish me off one day soon. We are both men who are heartless, Josh."

A round crystal tear fell from one of Josh's eyes with the words. Leo knew that what he had said probably hurt, he too was pretty close to losing it. But he contained it and went on. "But that isn't why we are here. We are not here to let our hearts fall into a thousand pieces. We are not here to give up so easily. No." He shook his head. "We are here to make a difference. To fight for what we believe in and love. Now you have a whole bunch of people outside this room who are praying and praying that you come out of this stupor knowing that. There are a lot of people who are wondering why you, a man who always seems optimistic on everything, should feel threatened. There are risks we take in this job, Josh. There are things we didn't sign up for when we volunteered to help run this country. Not every opposition we have come to face has been one we intended on facing. But look where we are now."

He glanced around the room, his voice cracking some. "I didn't come here to see you wallow and worry about what might happen tomorrow. It hasn't happened yet. It isn't here. The only thing you've got to remember is to live for today. Days can only happen one at a time. And we can only live them one at a time. Remember that, Josh. Remember that I am with you; I am here when ever you need me, just as Donna is, and Sam, and C.J. and Toby. Remember you've got a family here who isn't going to let you dig yourself into an early grave by watching you contemplate your own demise. We are always here to be a net for you to fall in if you need to."

The near black eyes moved. First one way, than the other; scanning and surveying the room until they landed on Leo. Bottom lip trembling, Josh muttered a weak, "I'm so scared."

Leo's strong hand moved down and clutched hold of Josh's. "Me too, kid. Me too. But you know something. I have a feeling that everything will turn out just fine. I don't get that feeling very often. So when it comes, it's a good thing."

The two figures, the weak and the strong, remained steadfast through the early morning hours, with only the halo of the halogen lights to glow and the hard rainfall to drown out their conversation, to the people who stood outside, patiently waiting.

* * *

TBC... 


	13. The Office

Michael Foxe sat slumped in his cushy leather chair behind a desk piled high with paperwork. He sighed to himself, not having anything to do, and picked up a remote nearby, flipping on the television set. The image that greeted him brought nausea to his gut. C.J. Cregg was holding yet another press conference. It took him all that he had to restrain a string of cuss words from leaving his mouth.

The way she had practically ostracized him from ever returning to the West Wing let alone the White House had not helped to cool his already fiery indignation. The way that the staff had handled Natalie Waitier's discharge was unprofessional, even crude. Announcing to the entire nation on television that she had been fired had really burned him. How could a bunch of sleazy reporters find out about it before Natalie herself?

Foxe stopped his contemplation. They were reporters. Plus C.J. seemed to be sweet on one particular muckraker; Concannon he believed his name was. Judging by the way that the pair had oogled at each other during her yesterday morning press conference, it had been an obvious notation. But Michael hardly cared about the Press Secretary's love life.

He had always found C.J. Cregg a force to be reckoned with; a reputable one at that. Her tongue practically never slipped (though there were a couple of occasions when under an extreme amount of stress she'd managed to botch up her words) and the icy gaze she delivered was one that could stop a man's heart cold if taken at the wrong moment. Until yesterday, he hadn't found any reason to back heads with her over anything. But she had gone too far; the entire Bartlett Administration had gone too far with this Department of Education scandal and had somehow drawn him into it as well.

Or perhaps he'd done that himself. Whatever the initial cause, it had been for the right reason. Natalie was a great politician and trainer, and an even better woman. For Bartlett to call her loyalty into question was like asking if a peach had a pit. This had not been her doing. However, no one seemed to be in the mood to agree with him.

C.J.'s appearance this morning was haggard and down-trodden, her voice marred by weariness and probably a two hour sleep. This pleased Foxe but only a little. She didn't seem to do as well on the podium without her sheath of cosmetics and canopy of hair spray plus her disarming smile seemed a tad thin. But Danny wasn't far away; his voice heard among the mob of White House corespondents. Something within Michael told him that he wouldn't allow her to slip.

The reasoning behind C.J.'s less that charming appearance was something that he couldn't help but laugh at. The irony that Lyman not coming to work had almost caused his own death was something that fueled the feelings of justice within him. Josh had screwed up; for him not to be punished for it would have been unfair and inequitable. Though Foxe was glad that Lyman had paid his dues for the error, he was not in the least bit happy with how it was justified. Ruining his career was one thing; but the Deputy Chief of Staff suffering a dangerous heart block had been another thing all together. Foxe had certainly not wished that sort of thing upon him and realizing that he took joy in any of it made him guilty for it.

Word was that Josh's recovery was going slow but at least it was going. With most of the staff on edge because of his predicament, less was getting done and everything seemed to spiral out of control. Michael Foxe's own work load seemed to have tripled since yesterday's events. Instead of working his way through it, he had merely let it sit as if it were a log and he was waiting for it to decompose. He remained staring at the books stacked in his bookcase for quite a time, as if searching for meaning in the titles. A copy of Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged was perched precariously on the top shelf looking as if it were about to fall. He let it alone. Perhaps when and if it did drop, it would break him from his severely augmented delirium.

He clicked the television off and let the remote clatter on his desk. He could really have used a smoke right then but if he set one foot out of his office, his secretary would chastise him for not doing anything. Candace was a nice woman, fresh out of college, majoring in Economics. Frequently she liked to yell at him over his smoking habits and leave little sticky notes all over his office on what he had to do that month, and depending on how quick he found them; that week. Apart from those two irritations, she was a studious woman, studying in hopes of acquiring a master's degree, and also a diligent worker. Perhaps he'd give her a raise if he didn't get fired...

The phone in front of him blurped suddenly, sending him up out of his seat with a jolt. He blinked a couple of times to wet his eyes and picked up the receiver, stating plainly, "Foxe." Candace had forgotten to tell him who was calling. Though it didn't happen frequently, his secretary was prone to letting a call slide through to his office to annoy him. Two options were either his lush of a mother calling or someone with a complaint against him.

"Michael Theodore Foxe!" Unfortunately this time it was the latter of the two. "You sound like you've swallowed a basketball and now its rolling around inside of you." the discontented voice slurred.

Foxe rolled his eyes. Of all the times he _wished_ that someone would call him just to tell him that he was a jack ass.

'And you sound like you've had more than you're usual case of vodka.' he thought to himself so wishing that he could just say it out loud. Cowardice got the better of him. "Mother." he responded curtly.

"Aren't you going to wish me a happy birthday, Mikey? I'm 47 today." she said with seduction in her voice.

Foxe groaned. He hated it when she called him that. Only a couple of women that he'd had one night stands with had called him that plus, her inebriated voice steadily dropping into a baiting one was making him feel ten times as uncomfortable.

"Your birthday was two weeks ago, Mother, and you're sixty-five." he informed almost angrily.

A pause came from her side of the line. "You never called." she spoke, pretending to sound hurt.

"I did." Michael assured, absence of any type of feeling in his tone. When she couldn't beguile her way out of something, Connie Foxe would play the wounded pet routine. Little did she know that her children were no longer prone to her melting voice and fake sobs.

"I don't remember it." she claimed, a slight curious rise in her voice.

"You wouldn't." he replied before he could get hold of his tongue. He winced, waiting for the swearing to start.

Just as his mother had launched into her feigned weeping and carrying on about how no one cared for her, Candace's face peeked through the door, a panicked appearance on her facade.

For moments, Foxe was relieved that she'd interrupted him; anything was better that this drama. However, she had been the one whom had let the call come through without even a warning. If she'd come in, it would be to tease him about the call. His eyes narrowed at her, but he figured he'd bit and ask what was going on. "What?" he asked, placing the phone to his shoulder.

"There's someone here for a meeting with you..." she began.

Another groan escaped him. Probably the Minority Leader of the Senate coming to lecture him about getting into the DOE mess.

"Tell them that I'm on a really important call and I can't be disturbed. Work your usual magic." he decided. A crying drunkard was somehow more tolerable than his own boss at that moment.

"I don't think I can." Candace responded, the nervousness back in her eyes.

"Of course you can. Don't let Brown give you the heeby-geebies. Just tell him I'm on the phone with... The President. An urgent matter. I'll have to see him some other time."

"You don't understand..." she tried to explain.

"Listen, Candace, my mother is bawling on the line because she can't remember how old she is. Just by me a few more minutes." he leveled with her.

"Take all the time you need." a familiar voice called from the hallway.

Every muscle in Michael Foxe's body froze as if on cue. It could not have been. If God was merciful, then it wouldn't be who he believed. Unfortunately, his suspicions were confirmed as two men in black uniforms swept into the room, eyes scanning for assassins and mercenaries. They found neither. Seconds later, a shorter man stepped in, brown graying hair and intense blue eyes being the first features he noticed.

Carefully, he slid the phone back up to his mouth and ear. "Mom. I've got to go. The President of the United States is standing in my office."

His mother ceased her whining. "The one from the movie _Air Force One_?" she purred.

"That's Harrison Ford." he replied, trying to show as little retort as he could.

Josiah Bartlett's eyes gleamed as he heard the comment and a tricky grin rose on his lips.

"Get his autograph for me, would you?" Foxe's mother continued to pester. "As a belated birthday gift?"

Foxe scowled. He'd given her a new chest of drawers for her clothes which she'd ended up storing her booze in instead. However, he only wished to get off the phone with her. "Fine."

"Tell him that I liked him in _The Fugitive_ with Jones Tommy Lee. Really got my blood pumping."

"Will do, Mother. Bye." The phone returned to its place on the cradle. Now, Michael Foxe had nothing to protect himself against the leader of the country, Bartlett himself. Judging by how comfortable he seemed, Foxe could tell that he was in for a hell of a verbal beating and more than likely, the end of his career.

* * *

TBC... 


	14. Normal

I apologize for the extremely long wait on this fic. This will be the ending chapter of this story. The reason this chapter swaps from point of view to point of view is because I wanted to cover each character before I drew it in for a close. I realize that this story could have done with a few more chapters for greater detail, but I knew I had to finish it and I couldn't take any more time on it. I hope all enjoyed it and will continue to enjoy it time and time again. (I know, cliché.) Send me some feedback, let me know how I can improve my writing (other than not losing interest in it for a year). Thanks all!

* * *

The office was quiet somehow in the midst of chaos. It moved quickly though everything left a trail, as if it was grazing the air through slow motion. Josh watched it in fascination, positive that there were still some drugs in his system that would allow such harmonious movements and blissful silence during a mid-day slam at work. He nursed a bottle of water, taking tiny sips.

His work load was light, Leo had made sure of that. He'd been to only two appointments that day which had lasted a half an hour each. A very light load indeed. He was scheduled for one more before he would be sent home early for much needed rest. Despite Leo's overprotective advice on his first day back to work, Josh couldn't help but admire the older man for it and his wisdom. He'd have been a vegetable had Leo not stepped in and reached him. It was a clutch, a tight one at that rather than a hand reaching out, but it was enough to bring him back.

When he'd been all alone in that tiny room in his mind, it hadn't been cold and dark and dank like one would have suspected after hearing such traumatizing news. Instead, Josh found himself in an empty bedroom, where the afternoon sun cast rays of orange across his bed and over his face. Despite the comfort and the quiet in this little room, he'd found that he couldn't move. Laying on his side on that bed, staring into the light; panic gripped him, while Donna had been trying to talk him out of it.

Minutes passed and the bed lost its cushy luxury. It poked him in places, and his lower back eventually developed a crick. His shoulders knotted up. His eyes burned from staring into the light, and grew heavy. Most of all, his heart stung, a feeling like a thousand knives poking into his chest all at once.

He hoped he'd never see that room again.

"Josh?"

He peered up to see CJ standing in front of him, her blue gaze frosted over with worry. "You okay?"

Smiling meekly, he said, "Yeah. I'm okay." Forgetting himself, he stood up slowly and grabbed his blazer from the back of the chair. He snuck a quick look at his watch. "Oh, I'm going to be late."

CJ nodded. "I thought I'd just come by and remind you."

Josh stopped and regarded her momentarily. She'd come by because she knew he'd be spacey. He guessed he should have expected it. After all, he clearly hadn't been himself since the incident in the hospital. Part of him wasn't there. He knew over time it would come back to him and he'd continue his work like he always had. But for now, maybe he just needed that little bit of him to be somewhere else other than the White House. "Thanks." he muttered.

He strode out of the office, a manilla folder tucked under one arm and the bottle of water in his hand. As he took his first left at the end of the long hallway, Donna flanked him from another section of the Bullpen. "You'll need this." she stated shortly, holding out another folder.

His gaze locked on her sapphire eyes, deep and rich, filled with more with appreciation than duty. And then there was that other thing.

Something he'd recognized and known for as long as he'd worked with Donna though he couldn't pick a word for it that properly fit. It certainly wasn't lust, he didn't want to take it too seriously and say that it was passion. Maybe it was something between enamor and respect. He smirked at this. His mother had always told him that women found favor in those that they respected. That was the charm reflected in her stare.

"Donna, there's something I need to tell you." he spoke slowly, and ushered her around the corner.

She followed, unaware of what exactly his intentions were.

He squeaked open the door to a supply closet where Donna followed him unquestioningly in. After the door had closed, Josh stood mere inches away, and peered down at her.

She looked up at him and her heart began to thud fast and hard almost to the point where it hurt.

Reaching up, he let his hand brush her cheek, fingers mingling with her blond locks. She closed her eyes at his cool touch and exhaled. "Josh, I…"

That was when she felt it. Lips pressed against her forehead tenderly, both hands now cradling her head close to him. She leaned on him instinctively and felt her entire body relax. He held her for several seconds and kissed her hair, breathing in a wave of vanilla bean perfume.

When he pulled away, Donna was slightly disappointed but kept it hidden. She glanced up into his eyes, searching for an answer.

"I wanted you to know that I heard what you said." he whispered. "I'd do anything for you too."

He cupped his hand on her cheek one more time, and withdrew from the closet, sprinting down the corridor to reach his meeting.

Donna stood dumbfounded, frowning, trying to figure out what had just happened. Her initial hopes and expectations of what it might have been leapt to her mind and she felt as if she should shout "eureka!" or something like it. Josh felt affection for her. Cared about her. Loved her. He just had trouble expressing his emotion. And especially now where he was having a hard time trying to cope with his condition. No matter how strangely he acted or how difficult a time he was having showing it, Donna knew completely that she and Josh were one; moving, thinking, acting, and loving as one. No matter what happened in the future, she would always stick by him. And him by her.

"Donna?"

She looked up to see Toby standing outside the closet, regarding her with uneven brows.

"Yeah?" she responded still dazed.

"You're standing in the closet with a dumbfounded expression on your face."

"Yup."

His lip dropped a little. "Why are you in the closet with a dumbfounded expression on your face?"

She shook off the endless questions in her head. "Oh, I was just… organizing." she stated, picking up a stack of folders.

Toby quickly regarded the already spick-n-span area, tidy, and everything put in its proper place. He took a sip from his coffee. "Well, keep up the good work." He turned and left, shaking his head, not wanting to know anything about it.

As the communication's director paced down the hall towards CJ's office, he thought briefly about Michael Foxe. The man was booted from his post by the President after an unexpected meeting. Bartlett knew what he'd been doing and knew that if he hadn't amputated Foxe from the Executive body, so to speak, they would be facing more trouble regarding the entire Natalie Waitier scandal. Luckily, she too had resigned from her post without much of a scuffle. Now they could move on to more pressing matters.

He halted in CJ's door and waited for the press secretary to end her phone call.

"Alright. Yeah. Okay. I need that by tomorrow morning." CJ spoke, acknowledging Toby leaning in the door frame casually with a nod. "Okay." She put the receiver down and leaned back in her chair, pushing papers out of the way to make room to prop her legs on her desk. "You need something?"

Toby paced into the room quietly, dragging his heels a little with his hands tucked in his pockets. "I just found Donna standing in a supply closet in the hallway."

CJ bobbed her head a little. "Let me guess, was she getting supplies?"

"Staring into space."

"Well, she's deep in thought. I'm not surprised, Toby." the red head defended, sipping her coffee and turning to look out the window.

He put up his hands in surrender and took a seat on the other side of her desk. "And how are you doing?"

Her green eyes slid over to him. She took almost ten seconds before answering. "I'm fine."

He cocked his head. "Are you sure?"

Here, CJ took a breath and stared him directly in the eyes. Something in them seemed to dig right down into Toby's soul. "He's different. Josh."

Toby's face grew stony. "He needs time. He needs to adjust." The communications director stood up and cast a glance out into the hall where Donna was emerging from the closet. "After that, he'll be fine."

A nagging feeling within CJ was telling her that things wouldn't be the way they used to. Instead of voicing this, she merely nodded placing a hand over her eyes and answered, "I hope your right."

She heard a light shuffle and when she looked up, Toby had left.

Sighing, she reluctantly stood up from her desk and moved to the doorway. "Carol!"

The brunette secretary appeared moments later, alive and ready for orders.

"Do me a favor and call Katie over at the Hill. We need to schedule a meeting--"

"Is this a bad time?" Danny Concannon appeared behind Carol and gave a tiny smile.

CJ was sure her heart was doing the jump, jive, and wail and had broken her ribcage in the process. "No, come on in." she waved him in and turned back to Carol. "An appointment for three o'clock if she can. Thanks."

She closed the doors behind her. When she turned, she barely had enough time to register Danny standing right there leaning into her. She accepted the kiss welcomingly and melted into it, her hand grasping one of his arms. Pulling away, a smile wiped across her face, so large it could have probably been seen from California.

Danny chuckled and took a small step back, shifting from foot to foot. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

She brushed a wisp of hair from in front of her eyes and cleared her throat. "Well, I'm just sorry I didn't know what I was missing." she replied, leaning in for another kiss.

The office door swung open and Sam poked his head in, staring at some folders in his hand. "CJ, I needed to ask you--"

The press secretary leapt away from Danny and lost her balance, falling into the chair in front of her desk gracelessly. Danny reached forward in order to catch her from falling and was pulled down with her, falling on top of her.

Sam's head shot up from the reports and his eyes bulged at the scene before him. "….oh, God! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to--"

"No!" CJ and Danny shouted simultaneously.

CJ put up her hands and pulled herself up in the chair. "Its not what you think!"

Danny scrambled to get up, straightening his tie and blazer. "We were just talking."

Sam frowned. "Okay." He looked back and forth between the two of them. "Right." Down at the report. Back at CJ, who had distanced herself from the reporter. To Danny, who was eying the rest of the office as if he'd never been in it before. Back to the reports. "I'm going to go now. I'd like to go." he answered quickly. He whirled around and closed the door behind him before either of them could say anything.

Stalking down the Bullpen hallway, he started towards his office, trying to shake what he'd just seen from his head. When he couldn't wipe it, he physically started shaking his head.

Leo, standing out in front of his office, watched as Sam passed by, his head writhing from side to side furiously. "Do you have water in your ears or something?"

Sam stopped in mid step and glanced up, his eyes shifting about. How embarrassing. Had anyone else seen him? After a quick sweep of the area, he determined that no one had. "No…no." He shook his head some more and when he noticed one of Leo's eyebrows rise, he stopped. "I just saw something that… I want to forget."

Leo frowned. "What?"

Sam opened his mouth to say it but nothing came out. Instead he shook his head again. "I want to forget." And he kept walking.

Turning from where Sam had come, Leo watched as Danny left CJ's office, seeming a little flustered and headed out of the communications Bullpen. CJ emerged seconds later, her face contorted with a look of desperation. Catching his gaze, she headed towards him. "Have you seen Sam?"

Leo pointed. "He went that way shaking his head like a wet dog."

Her eyes widened slightly at this. "Damnit." She quickly moved around him heading in the direction of Sam's office.

Deciding it was better not to know what was going on, Leo headed back to his office. Once inside, he moved to the door that connected to the Oval Office. Inside, he found President Bartlett scribbling away at a piece of paper on his desk. Charlie stood nearby.

"Leo," Bartlett welcomed, not looking up, "how are things going?"

"Oh the same as usual. Josh was on his way to a meeting in the Roosevelt room, Donna was organizing an already organized closet, and I think Sam walked in on CJ and Danny."

Bartlett raised his head, his eyes widened. "What were they doing?"

"I don't know, but Sam went by me shaking his head saying he "wanted to forget what he'd just seen."

He turned back to the report. "Great." he sarcastically droned. "So I take it everything is back to normal?"

Leo sighed heavily. "Pretty much."


End file.
